


I Found

by NoisyEmmy



Series: Fluid [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, figure skating AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-29 21:01:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13935318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoisyEmmy/pseuds/NoisyEmmy
Summary: Before you succeed, you must fail.-The monotonous buzz of the ceiling fan accompanies the disappointment in my chest, a cruel reminder of today’s failures. The familiar feeling of tears and guilt claw at my throat, sharp and sour. Why do I work day and night to only be beaten down like this? “You are better than this, Shoyo,” I whisper to no one. “I am better than this.” I sigh, huddling under my blanket in shame, hoping that no one will remember the small skater who flubbed his performance in lieu of all the other greater, older skaters but knowing that will never be true.





	I Found

The monotonous buzz of the ceiling fan accompanies the disappointment in my chest, a cruel reminder of today’s failures. The familiar feeling of tears and guilt claw at my throat, sharp and sour. Why do I work day and night to only be beaten down like this? “You are better than this, Shoyo,” I whisper to no one. “I am better than this.” I sigh, huddling under my blanket in shame, hoping that no one will remember the small skater who flubbed his performance in lieu of all the other greater, older skaters but knowing that will never be true.

It wasn’t even some regional competition, it was nationals. He’d finally made it! That made it all the more embarrassing -- his mother and sister had watched him fail at the very sport he’d been practising since he was fourteen. He’d arrive home late almost every night, littered with bruises. Every night as he removed each layer of clothing he wore to the rink or the studio, he’d discover splotches of green, yellow, purple and red. He still gets bruises but he likes to think of them as proof that he is working hard and that he is pushing himself to be better, every single day.

He remembers when he first wanted to pursue figure skating in vivid detail.

The National Skating competition replay was being broadcasted on a dingy, grainy tv out the front of some store window, Japan’s number one skater at the time was on the ice -- Yuzuru Hanyu was his name. He was smooth and confident, his jumps looked effortless and he was emotional and graceful in the way he told a story when he skated; he wanted to be just like that.

He had begged and begged and begged his mother to let him take lessons in the next town over but she had been sceptical. She was reluctant to agree but gave in once she saw how persistent he was. It was from that day on that he, Hinata Shoyo, was addicted to the ice. Two and half years later he’d finally landed a spot on a competitive team -- a team whose reputation had gone down in recent years -- but a team nonetheless.

It was on the ice that he met his best friend and rival, Kageyama Tobio. They’d met at a regional competition; Kageyama had absolutely destroyed every competitor in his age division by over fifty points. It was at this very competition that Hinata promised to himself that he’d beat Kageyama.

The trees were bare and then they were not -- hues of pink dusted his usual route to the rink and the air was less bitter. Kageyama had suddenly turned up requesting to join the team, never disclosing the reason why he was there, to begin with -- his obvious talent would have guaranteed him a spot on the national team. Why hadn’t they selected him? Kageyama pranced around, scowling and sneering at anyone and anything. He never even listened to the coach! He secretly wondered if those were only some of the apparent reasons why he wasn’t on a more reputable team.

It had only taken two weeks for their paths to cross and it had gotten ugly very quickly.

_“Why the hell do you treat everyone like shit, huh?” He was well past the point of caring that he was doing this in the rink, in front of the coaches and his teammates. He clenched his fist, kicking at the ice, “everybody just wanted to be nice and include you but you had to go and act like some- some king!” He pulled at his shirt, fists scrunching the fabric. The urge to slap the taller was overwhelming._

_“Don’t call me that.” The constant frown Kageyama always wore only continued to deepen the more he tried to get any reaction out of the taller skater. He continued to shuffle closer and closer, trying to appear as tall and intimidating as he could. Not very effective considering he was almost two heads shorter than Kageyama but that was beside the point._

_“If you’re some big shot skater, why aren’t you on the national team yet?! Why are you even here?”_

_“Because I got rejected, okay?!” Hinata didn’t expect him to shout back, he’d always just ignored everybody else when they tried to get a reaction out of him. “They. Rejected. Me.” He shoved him away, almost tripping over his own two feet. Hinata stood speechless._

_“Not like you’re any better,” he huffed, looking down at him, a condescending sneer plastered to his face. “I saw you skate at regionals.” That intense glare was locked onto him and only him. “What have you been doing for the past three years?” His tone was accusing and harsh -- he doesn’t know a thing. Doesn’t know anything about him._

_“You have no right to be talking as if you know me, got it asshole?” He was furious, how dare this pompous asshole talk as if he knows how hard he’s worked without a coach! He felt the anger swell in his chest and cloud his mind. His throat clenched uncomfortably as he held back the angry tears that threatened to roll down his cheeks. He was such a crybaby, letting Kageyama get to him like that._

_He skated to the gate, grabbed his skate guards and hobbled away as fast as he could._

Kageyama and I eventually learnt how to tolerate each other after Coach Ukai had forbidden us from skating until we were on friendly terms with each other. He and I were reluctant to be within 10 meters of each other let alone sit down and have a heart to heart about what happened but alas it happened and we had learnt to tolerate each other. Very reluctantly and very slowly might I add.

Arguments broke out often between us two despite Coach Ukai’s efforts to make us see eye to eye with each other, but through the near-constant nagging from both coach Ukai and our teammates, we’d formed an unlikely bond. Very quickly everyone on the team had found out why Kageyama was here -- the lack of emotion in his performances.

I’d brought it up in conversation once, not expecting him to be defensive about it; we all had our weaknesses. Kageyama is just… emotionally awkward? Kageyama had a short temper and everyone knew it. He was defensive about everything, including his lacklustre performances, artistry-wise.

“Well, you can barely do a triple toe loop!” he spat back, body language tense and defensive. Hinata fully believes if they weren’t on the rink and Coach Ukai wasn’t around, Kageyama would’ve slapped him around the head (and he would’ve hit him back).

“So what? I’ve only just learned how to properly jump,” I crossed my arms, sighing at the look of disbelief on his face. “I’m still going to beat you, don’t you worry Bakageyama.”

“Who’re you calling baka, Baka?” Nevertheless, the nicknames, although odd, stuck.

They were both very, very, very competitive. After I had declared that I would beat Kageyama, we’d turn anything and everything into a competition. First, to the rink, who could finish their warm-up laps the fastest, run the longest on the treadmill, get furthest in their splits -- stupid, miscellaneous things like that. It was… fun, no matter how hard Kageyama would slap him if he was being too cocky about winning.

It was amusing to everybody at first but now everybody just found it annoying -- the constant shouting and near accidents were giving Coach Ukai and Takeda, the rink manager a headache and grey hair. On multiple occasions, Hinata had taken big falls on the ice -- he should’ve become a speed skater, he absolutely flies around the rink -- but that had never stopped him nor Kageyama from flying around dangerously.

This had also sparked extra practice late into the night because Kageyama was a cocky bastard and wanted to win but he also took the time to teach him how to jump and spin properly. In return, Hinata would give him feedback on what he thought of his performances, the way his body had moved to tell a story.

Skating was a way for him to de-stress, a creative outlet for his frustrations and when he skated, he was elsewhere. All his problems were behind him, left in the lines he painted across the rink alone. With Kageyama at his side constantly now, it was both scary and comforting to have him almost constantly watching him, observing. He was never very good at dealing with his emotions, especially at competitions. He was either too nervous or too excited, there was never a grey in-between, never a calm moment before he took to the ice. The noise was always deafening, even if it was only a regional competition.

The distant thrum of the spectators accompanied the loud thudding in his ears before he took to the ice, gliding and smooth. He looked calm, but under the skin-tight costume, his heart was trying to escape his chest and his mind was cloudy. The anxiety was slowly eating away at him.

They’d worked hard -- every day and every night for months -- whether it be at the rink, in the gym or before school, they had both worked so hard on these routines. He had worked so hard on his routine. But he’d fallen short.

Kageyama had gotten on the podium.

I was so focused on my jumps -- jumps that I had ultimately failed -- and not the story. It was only regionals, we were still young, we still had time but… Kageyama had beaten him yet again. I wouldn’t let it happen again. It couldn’t. I just had to work harder, throw myself into skating more. I couldn’t let my dream go so easily. I remember thinking ‘I have to push past his limits to become the best and to beat Kageyama.’

Kageyama had soared across the ice, he was so… so beautiful. He looked so cool… of course, I wouldn’t tell him that -- over my dead body -- but Kageyama was a monster on the ice, that was for sure. He’d placed third; his old teammate, Oikawa Tooru had placed 2nd and Ushijima Wakatoshi, one of the top up-and-coming figure skaters in first. It was only natural for them to place in second and first -- both of them were third years and predicted to join the National team once they graduate.

He had placed fifteenth overall, not too bad considering he used to place significantly lower but he wasn’t going to be satisfied with fifteenth, not when Kageyama was on the podium. He wanted to go to Nationals, it was never going to happen with 15th place. But it had happened and there was nothing he could do to fix that. The time was ticking until the next competition -- the next opportunity to beat Kageyama, to get closer to a medal position.

Competition after competition passed and he was slowly climbing up the leaderboard -- he was elated. All the time he spent working, working and working was paying off. He was slowly creeping closer to Kageyama, he had managed to clamber slowly up the leaderboard -- thirteenth, eighth, sixth and now fifth. They had announced who was going to nationals yesterday.

He had finally made it to nationals.

The standard thump-thump-thump in his chest was lead by the music blasting through his earphones. Every so often, he was able to hear the crowd cheer as a skater entered the rink or finished their program, he never bothered checking. He avoided watching the other competitors before him, the nerves and anxiety that he tries so desperately to keep under control unravel so effortlessly. All performances except for one: Kageyama’s.

The familiar melody of his short program lulls him into late night practices, just the two of them and the open rink. It brings him back to one of the more recent practices, a couple of weeks before this competition. They’d been playing tag on the rink, zipping and zapping around as a way to warm up after working in the studio the majority of the afternoon. He was flying around the rink and Kageyama was getting fed up of being the tagger so he’d impulsively decided to jump at him, both of them tripping over onto the frigid ice below, one on top of the other. The resulting blush on both of their faces was comical as they embarrassingly shuffled off of each other, the air awkward and quiet between them.

‘So cute,’ he remembers thinking, an embarrassed Kageyama was one of his favourites. Kageyama, behind the stoic mask he puts on, was a person he liked to be around. Whenever it was just the two of them, Kageyama was more relaxed -- it made it easier to help him with his performances. He wasn’t as rough, wasn’t as brash when it was just the two of them, he appreciated the time they spent together.

Kageyama was a menace on the ice and he knew that -- his short program reflected the brashness of his outward character, jagged and sharp. The program was fire and lightning, technically and emotionally demanding. He needed to make the program his own, needed to make the story his own.

After months of hard work, Hinata was proud to say that Kageyama had come to make the program his own, the familiar way in which he held himself, confident and smug as if saying ‘I’ll win this, just watch me.’

I had longed to be able to pull off mature, graceful and emotional routines like Kageyama but unfortunately, I looked like a middle school student and was often dumped with the energetic routines as a result of that. I’m 16! However, this season I was surprised to find out that coach Ukai had given me the option to choose my short program song. The orchestra was a big change to the upbeat songs I was so used to skating to, a good change. The aching tones of the strings gave way to the main melody -- he could do this, he had to do this.

His programs were all he had in the art of figure skating. It didn’t matter if you were the best if you were expected to win; miss an element and it was game over. Nationals were here and it was his time to shine. Their time to shine. He was so excited -- he’d made it, and in his first year of high school, at that!

All his excitement and joy was in vain, for he fumbled and slipped and fell like it was his first competition all over again. He couldn’t hold back the tears as he skated to the exit, the shame and embarrassment of his performances were enough, the score only further worsening the embarrassed blush and the acidic shame that continued to sit in his stomach.

The shame had stayed, as Kageyama had performed, and for the first time in what seemed like forever, he couldn’t bear to watch his teammate -- his best friend -- perform. He couldn’t stand the feeling of disappointing him. He was supposed to be his biggest rival.

And here he was, wallowing in the choking shame that weighed heavy over his head.

Ping. The room is temporarily illuminated and the depressive silence that hung heavy was suddenly broken. He flinched. Only one person would message him. He sighed as he resigned himself to his fate -- he knew Kageyama would only continue to pester him, ignorant of his feelings. He knew he needed to get over it. They both had the next two years before high school ended. They’d make it -- eventually.

Kageyama: Open up, baka. I’m outside.

Hinata: Fineeeeee

Grumbling, he flopped onto the floor, regretting it only a second later before lethargically getting up to open the door. “What do you want?” He grumbled, he must’ve looked like a mess.

“Baka, you said we could go sight-seeing after the competition. Get changed and let’s go,” Kageyama shoved past him, making himself comfortable on the sofa, turning on the tv. “I’m not gonna leave so you better hurry up. If you’re ready in 5, dinner’s on me.”

At the mention of dinner, he perked up. Free food was always nice, no matter the mood. “Fine, Bakageyama.”

Not 3 minutes later he was ready to leave the room, just throwing on whatever he could find in the mess that was his hotel room. He was so ready to feast on whatever junk food he could -- he hadn’t had a cheat day in weeks. He internally -- or so he thought -- moaned at the thought of fried chicken. “Oi, what the hell was that?”

“Huh?” He snapped out of his daze, “I was thinking about fried chicken, can we get some?” Kageyama’s face was tinged pink, for what reasons he wasn’t sure. He wasn’t awake enough to think about anything other than fried chicken. “Please?” He tried his best puppy dog eyes, knowing they’d probably not work.

“Baka…” he grumbled, eyes up to the sky and hands in his pocket. He looked… really good. He’d been having these thoughts for a while, not very sure on what to think about them. He was his best friend, he hoped, not being brave enough to ask him directly, fearing rejection and the awkward silence that would most likely start. They were well past that stage in their friendship, he didn’t want to go back. “We can go get fried chicken. My mum’s been here a couple times before and knows a good place.”

He cheered, “FRIED CHICKEN HERE I COME!”

It wasn’t long before they had arrived at a quaint looking place. They were seated in a small booth, private but not separate from the main area. Perfect. They both stayed off the topic of the day’s competition. The food arrived not long after they had arrived -- at that point, the conversation had veered off topic and died off, both enjoying their food. Before long, the food was gone, the bill was paid and they were aimlessly walking around in a city that was foreign to them both.

“Hinata, I know you’re upset about the competition today-”

“Can we please not talk about this now?” He interrupted, knowing it was rude but he really didn’t want to talk about it. He knew that Kageyama would only continue to push -- he was going to try and get this out of him, whether it was tonight, tomorrow, next week or next month -- until he got his answer.

“When are we going to talk about this then?” He was calm as if he knew he’d react like this, probably did. “You’re not going to place high at every competition -- get over it.” The way Kageyama had just… said that as if he had lost recently. He never placed lower than 6th at any competition they’d competed at, never.

“What the hell do you know about not placing high? Oh, wait. Nothing. You never place lower than 6th, how the hell do you understand what failure is like?” He knew he was being unfair, knew that he was unjustified -- of course Kageyama knows what failure is like, everybody does. It was inexcusable but he was tired and angry, at himself mostly.

“I know you’re angry but just, what the hell, Hinata?” He grabbed my arm, jerking me back. “Of course I know what failure feels like, baka. Failure was the reason I joined the team. I think I understand pretty well how failure works.” He sighed, pinching the area in between his brow. “You’ve been skating for what, two, almost three years and you’ve already made it to nationals? That’s amazing, Hinata, get it through your head. The fact that you got there should’ve been accomplishment enough. I’ve been skating since I was 4, Hinata. 4.” He dropped my arm, sighing, “we still have time, Hinata. There’s no point beating yourself up about this.”

The constricting sensation of guilt and tears in his throat choke him as he hugs Kageyama, “I’m sorry.” His arms wrapped around me, comforting and warm. Sniffling, I pulled back, “Sorry about your shirt…”

“Baka, I don’t care about my shirt.” Where was the awkward Kageyama now? “You feeling better?” Nodding, I leaned into him. He didn’t push me away. Was this a sign?

“Can we go get ice-cream, Kageyama?” I started with the puppy dog eyes again, whining “please?” He was very sure this time that Kageyama’s face was significantly redder than it was two seconds ago. He really hoped he wasn’t reading this wrong.

“Fine, but you’re paying.” Cheering, I grabbed his arm and started skipping, the day’s failures behind me. Their feelings can be left for another day. He wanted to savour today; today’s accomplishments.

**Author's Note:**

> Guess who wrote more fanfiction for their English assignment? Me. This thing was a whopping 3500 words (a personal record, I'm actually quite proud of this :))))
> 
> I'll probably have another short story out in the same universe in the future because my teacher's giving me writing challenges now :') Aim for this one is 700 words because I'm not concise and most of our writing assessments are in-class (sigh)
> 
> The tenses were all over the place it feels really weird writing fanfiction in the first person gahhhh.
> 
> Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated <3
> 
> Tumblr: https://noisy-emmy.tumblr.com/


End file.
